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by allamaraine



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allamaraine/pseuds/allamaraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vash returns from the Gamma Quadrant for a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the doors to her quarters chime insistently for the third time, Beverly finally gives in with a sigh. She was planning on a quiet evening with a good book and a hot bath, but whoever is at the door is not taking the hint. Wrapping her open bathrobe tightly around her and securing the knot, she stands to greet her visitor. “Come in.”

 

The doors open and there she is, nonchalantly leaning against the doorframe with sunburned skin, dirt-encrusted boots, and a cocky smile.

 

“Vash!” Beverly exclaims. Whether the sudden rush of heat to her cheeks comes from annoyance or excitement at her wayward lover’s sudden arrival, she can’t say.

 

“Did you miss me?” With the doors sliding shut behind her, Vash saunters towards Beverly and unceremoniously throws her bag – which is clunking suspiciously – onto the floor.

 

Beverly doesn’t answer. Instead, she crosses her arms and asks, “What’s in the bag?”

 

Vash rolls her eyes. “You’re as bad as Jean-Luc.” She kneels and unzips the bag, revealing a small pile of gold-pressed latinum bars. “It’s my payment from Quark.”

 

“Payment for what?”

 

“Beverly. We talked about this last time.” They all agreed: it was best for Jean-Luc and Beverly not to know the exact nature of Vash’s work. Deniability.

 

Beverly looks away and chews on her lower lip. It’s not the latinum that upsets her, not really. It’s what it represents. Vash has always followed her own rules, and Beverly would be lying if she said that wasn’t part of the attraction. But as their relationship has progressed, it’s become harder and harder to have Vash popping in and out of their lives like this. Especially with the way things have been going in the Gamma Quadrant.

 

Vash stands. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

 

“No,” says Beverly, turning back to face Vash. “I want you to stay. That’s the problem.”

 

Vash tugs on the belt of Beverly’s bathrobe, pulling the two of them closer together. “You say that now, but you’d quickly get tired of me.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t.”

 

“Most people do.”

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

“But it’s true.”

 

Beverly huffs.

 

Grinning, Vash leans in and nips at Beverly’s earlobe. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

 

Beverly tilts her head away from Vash’s further nibbling attempts. “I’m not angry! I just…”

 

“Just what?”

 

“Just… you don’t really think that, do you? That I – that either of us – would ever get tired of you?”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to give me some hokey line about love being eternal. Because the thought of coming home to you two worrywarts for the rest of my life... I don’t think I could stand it.”

 

“Coming home?” Beverly smiles, in spite of herself.

 

“Yeah…” She narrows her eyes. “What’s with the grin?”

 

“You called the Enterprise home. You called us home.”

 

“I don’t think that’s quite what I said.”

 

“Close enough.”

 

“Am I allowed to kiss you yet or what?”

 

“So impatient!” Beverly chides before giving in, pressing her lips to Vash’s. As they kiss, Beverly’s hands find the edge of Vash’s shorts, untuck her shirt, and start to unbutton it.

 

Vash breaks away with a laugh. “I’m impatient? Look at you!”

 

“Well if you want to take a bath with your clothes on, be my guest.”

 

Vash needs no further prompting and simply yanks the shirt over her head, buttons be damned. Now it’s Beverly’s turn to laugh as she walks away, towards the bathroom, letting her robe drop to the floor in the process.

 

“Fuck!” mutters Vash as she struggles to kick off her boots and undo her shorts at the same time. She would swear that Beverly just responded with a smug “Exactly,” but of course the doctor will adamantly deny it if she says anything. Once divested of her clothing, Vash follows Beverly into the bathroom, where she finds her perched on the edge of the tub, dancing her fingers under the running water.

 

“Computer, raise water temperature by three degrees Celsius.” The computer beeps in acknowledgement and Beverly, with her hand still under the tap, smiles blissfully. “Perfect.” She pulls her hand away, gives it a few shakes, then opens her arms up to Vash, who steps into the embrace without hesitation. Beverly kisses the soft rise beneath her navel, then looks up. “I did miss you.”

 

Vash toys with a few strands of Beverly’s hair. “I missed you too.” Bending down, she murmurs against Beverly’s lips, “And I can’t wait to show you just how much.”

 

“Mmm...” Beverly gives Vash’s buttocks a squeeze. “Get that dirty mind of yours out of the gutter and into the tub.”

 

Vash happily obeys. If there is one thing she’s learned in life, it’s never to turn down a hot bath when the opportunity presents itself. Particularly if there is a beautiful woman involved. Once Vash settles in, Beverly turns off the faucet, then stands to retrieve the bar of soap on a shelf nearby. The soap has that slightly irregular shape and color distortion that indicates something handmade, rather than replicator-made.

 

Vash nods towards the soap. “Where did you get that?”

 

“Hmm? Oh, I made it.”

 

“You made soap?” Vash stares in impressed incredulity. “Have I ever told you how delightfully antiquarian you are sometimes?”

 

Beverly shrugs - a very distracting motion that should not be performed naked in front of the woman trying her very best not to jump your bones. Or maybe it should be. “I don’t do it that often, but whenever I start missing Nana too much… it helps. She used to make soap sometimes, back on Caldos.” Vash gives Beverly’s thigh a comforting squeeze. Beverly gives a smile of thanks in return, before continuing, “It’s got chamomile in it.”

 

Vash feigns shock. “Not Earl Grey?”

 

Beverly rolls her eyes before sudsing up her hands. Once they are sufficiently soapy, she wiggles her fingers enticingly at Vash, who needs no further prompting. She scoots forward, so Beverly can get in the bathtub behind her, then pulls her hair over her shoulder and out of the way. Starting with Vash’s shoulders and working her way down, Beverly moves her fingers in small, firm circles across Vash’s skin, slowly working out all the kinks and knots.

 

After a few minutes, Beverly observes, “Your muscles are tighter than usual.” The unasked question is clear enough. Conducting business in the Gamma Quadrant has become more and more precarious. Many freighter captains refuse to carry cargo through the wormhole anymore, unwilling to deal with the Dominion’s “random security checks” that put both their crews and their cargo in danger. Even Vash has her limits and Beverly wants to know if she’s reached them. Hopes that she has.

 

For a long moment, Vash doesn’t say anything in response, but she is thinking, has been for a while now. With the intensification of tensions between the Dominion and the Alpha Quadrant, she’s not sure how much longer she can continue her runs for Quark. Not that she hasn’t braved war zones before - after all, as the 34th rule of acquisition states, war is good for business, particularly for a smuggler - but the Jem’Hadar… they’re a different sort of soldier all together. They can’t be bluffed like Klingons or smooth-talked like Cardassians. There’s always been an angle, a loophole she can exploit, an escape route. The Jem’Hadar don’t have that, not that she’s been able to discover, and that frightens her more than she would care to admit. Knowing there are people here who would actually give a damn if something happens to her… Beverly was right: they are becoming home.

 

“Lucky I have you, then.” She does feel a little bit noodley after the massage, so she falls back against Beverly, who wraps her arms around Vash’s waist. “I don’t think it’s really hokey, you know.”

 

“I know. And I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re trapped, but - ”

 

"No, no, I think you’re right,” Vash interrupts, before Beverly can give voice to both their fears. “Maybe it is time for me to take a little vacation."

 

"A vacation? To Risa?" Vash can practically hear the smirk in Beverly's voice.

 

"I think I better stay clear of Risa for a while. No, I was thinking more that I could stay here. On the Enterprise." She trips her fingers lightly across Beverly's hands, belying her apprehension. "Just until this thing with the Dominion blows over."

 

"I don't think it's going to just blow over."

  
Turning her head, Vash gives Beverly a quick, cheerful kiss on the temple. "Where's that famously insufferable Starfleet optimism, hmm?" Beverly doesn’t answer, just hugs her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s finish washing up, and then we’ll go to bed, okay? Everything will look better in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

Well… they technically made it to the bed at least. Sleep is another matter entirely. Much to her satisfaction, Vash now has Beverly lying on her back, writhing beautifully with her throat exposed and eyes closed. Vash herself is nestled between Beverly’s thighs, her mouth hard at work. Beverly has never been the vocal type, but the way her hands clutch at the sheets is evidence enough of her pleasure. It only takes a minute or two longer before she comes with a small gasp. Vash looks up from between Beverly’s legs. The doctor's cheeks are bright red and a light sheen of sweat covers her brow as she tries to catch her breath again.  

 

"Well, that was fast." Vash says it as an admonishment, but she she looks very pleased with herself as she crawls forward.

 

Beverly flushes even redder. "I'm sorry. It's... It's been a while."

 

"I can see that," Vash straddles herself across Beverly's pelvis and starts to rock. "Jean-Luc has been neglecting you while I’ve been gone."

 

Beverly sits halfway up on her elbows to protest, "That's not fair! You know he -"

 

Vash tosses her hands up in surrender. "Relax, Bev, it was a joke."

 

Frowning, Beverly falls back again on the bed, arms crossed, head turned away. "It wasn't very funny."

 

"Oh dear, now I've made you angry. How will I ever make it up to you?" She leans forward to nibble on Beverly's exposed earlobe then trails her tongue teasingly along her jawline, all while palming one of Beverly’s breasts and massaging it gently. Beverly turns her head and their lips meet once again for a slow, lingering kiss. Then suddenly Beverly breaks away, arches up and, grabbing Vash by the waist, flips her over and pins her down by the wrists.

 

Grinning ferally, she says, “I’m sure I can think of a few things.”

 

Vash returns that infernal grin with one of her own. “Do your worst.” Without warning, she lurches forward, aiming to bite at Beverly’s lower lip.

 

“Ah, ah,” Beverly moves her head out of range of Vash’s teeth and tightens her hold on her lover’s wrists, “No biting.”

 

“Is that an order, Commander?” Vash purrs out. It’s a signal to start the game, a game just between the two of them. Not that they haven’t tried, with Jean-Luc, but it simply doesn’t carry the same appeal for him. Perhaps his days are already too filled with ranks and commands for his nights to be as well.

 

The game, of course, it to see how well Vash can follow the rules. “Yes. And no scratching either.” Beverly releases her grip in order to run her nails down Vash’s arms. “Well, not for you anyway.”

 

Vash shudders with delight. “Yes, Ma’am.”

 

Beverly swats Vash’s hip, then points a forefinger at her. “That’s Sir to you.”

 

“Yes, Siiiir,” Vash says, drawing out the name mockingly. Then she takes Beverly’s finger into her mouth and begins to suck on it, her eyes fixed on Beverly to see her reaction.

 

Beverly’s breath catches in her throat. For one long indulgent moment, she allows Vash to continue for before freeing her entrapped digit. “None of that either.”

 

“No biting, no scratching, no sucking… why, what’s a poor little lowly ensign to do?”

 

With her moistened finger, Beverly traces a spiral over Vash’s left breast, tightening the circle as she draws nearer to the nipple. “Absolutely nothing.” Pinch. Vash lets out a small moan, which elicits a low chuckle from Beverly. “Well, maybe I’ll allow that. But no talking. Understand?” Vash purses her lips. So many rules tonight. Still, she nods her agreement, eager to see what Beverly has in store for her.

 

A kiss seals the deal, and the game can begin in earnest. Beverly’s mouth begins its leisurely journey down Vash’s body, starting with her neck, where it lingers for quite a long time, while hands run lightly up and down her ribcage and the curve of her waist. Then there’s teeth, grazing over her collarbone, gently, yet firmly, leaving their mark on her shoulder. Hot breath over nipples that have been teased by ruthless fingers. Tongue swirling around and dipping into her navel. Lips tracing a path along her inner thighs.

 

Alas, Vash’s desire eventually outweighs her will, this time around. “Beverly…” The name comes out almost as a whine, which, with anyone else, would be a profound embarrassment. Vash doesn’t whine, she smooth-talks, she convinces, she wins. But with Beverly, she doesn’t mind losing.

 

Beverly comes to an abrupt halt in her ministrations. “Whining will get you nowhere, Ensign.”

 

Vash flushes. “Sir.”

 

Beverly waits, with one eyebrow raised. That’s not enough.

 

“Commander.” The eyebrow goes down. Better. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

 

“We’ll see about that.” Her voice is laden with skepticism. “On your knees.”

 

The game continues.

 

 


End file.
